


Sam & Tony's Big Talk

by Buckybeardreams



Series: The Classifieds [10]
Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Classifications, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Gen, Heavy Angst, Hurt, Hurt Tony Stark, Littles Are Known, Past Child Abuse, Sam Wilson is a Saint, Self-Hatred, Self-Worth Issues, Therapist Sam Wilson, Tony Stark Has Issues, Tony Stark Needs a Hug, alternate universe - classifications, he's such a good listener and he just knows what to say, not really but he might as well be guys
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-05
Updated: 2020-09-09
Packaged: 2021-03-06 15:55:02
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 9,549
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26211511
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Buckybeardreams/pseuds/Buckybeardreams
Summary: Tony wakes up Big and has to confront his Little side.Edited 2/11/2021
Relationships: Steve Rogers & Tony Stark, Tony Stark & Sam Wilson
Series: The Classifieds [10]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1898527
Comments: 4
Kudos: 202





	1. Reality Comes Crashing Down Like A Ton Of Weights

**Author's Note:**

> So in this story we get to see Tony waking up and having some, understandably, negative emotions.
> 
> I decided to use time skips to jump through all the hurt. I don't really want to dwell too deeply on his negative feelings, though I do want to acknowledge his pain. 
> 
> All of the stories before this took place in the spans of three days(correct me if I'm wrong on that) I don't want to keep dragging things out on a day by day basis like that. It's pretty tedious.
> 
> I hope this doesn't feel too rushed to you guys. I'm just really ready to move on to happier times.
> 
> 2/11/2021 - me looking back on this like, i really don't know what "happier times" means lol no things do get happier, but the emotional hurt is real and so is the angst, but there is comfort and fluff too so... it kinda balances out... maybe?

Tony woke up feeling disoriented. He groaned, rolling over and bumping into something soft, like a pillow, but it was fuzzy. He rubbed his face against it, than froze. What the hell is he doing? If his dad saw him like this he'd be in trouble, but his dad wasn't alive anymore, and Obie wasn't around. He was alone in his room, he reminded himself, so he indulged for a moment, burrowing into the softness. A voice inside of him scolded him for it, told him he was being selfish, told him it was wrong, told him that Obie would be disappointed. That thought made him freeze. He laid still for a moment. Wait was he in his room? No, he was at his vacation house, right? Pepper had made him go there to take a break. Something seemed off though. There was something nagging at the back of his mind, a memory that seemed distant. He sat up, rubbing sleep from his eyes, and looking around. It took a moment to process what he was seeing.

"What the-"

He couldn't believe it. He was sitting in a crib. A baby crib. The soft thing was crib pads that kept him from bumping against the bars. His mind was whirring, trying to remember. The memories started flooding back, and he realized that he was so disoriented, because he had fully dropped for the first time in years. He flushed when it finally hit him. Everyone knew. All of his friends knew he was a baby now, that he was a Little, and Tony was horrified. This was the exact thing he'd been trying to avoid for as long as he can remember. He's always had to keep it a secret. To suppress his urges. To fight his headspace. The worst part of it all was that he was just as unwanted as Howard and Obie always told him he'd be. Babies were too much of a problem. He was just a burden on all of them, and the thought made him sob. His heart was racing in his chest like it was trying to break free, and he was starting to feel light headed. It took him a moment to realize, that it was because he wasn't breathing. He tried to suck in a breath, but it was shallow and his head was spinning.

"Tony!"

Steve came bursting through the door, followed by Bucky. Steve reached for him, but Tony jumped back. He pressed himself against the back of the crib, trying to get as far away from them as possible. He didn't want to see them. He didn't want Steve to touch him. He remembered why he dropped in the first place. It was because of Steve. The look of disappointment on his face, the way he said he wished he'd just act like an adult. He had cracked under the pressure, and it was all Steve's fault. The pressure of being told to be an adult, when he wasn't, not really. He was just a stupid baby. He felt himself cracking again. No, he told himself. He was Tony Stark. He didn't get to crack. Of all the luxuries he was allowed, breaking down wasn't one of them. His father had made that very clear. Starks were made of iron. So why did Tony feel like he was made of glass.

Glass.

Something about that thought triggered something in him. What was it. His minded yelled at him. The internal screaming made his head feel like it was breaking open. The pain was agonizing. Then it hit him like a freight train. He'd felt like glass. He had been crashing and it was Steve's soft words, and gentle touches that had been his breaking point. It was Steve, that was his undoing, not because he'd scolded him, but because he'd been so sweet. Tony hated it. He hated Steve for making him feel safe, even if it was just for a moment. He hated it, because it was a lie. He wasn't safe. He wasn't secure. Steve wasn't his. He didn't care about Tony, not the way Tony cared about him. Steve was the luxury Tony couldn't afford. Even billionaires couldn't afford the price of love.

"Tony. Hey, it's okay. Just breathe. I need you to breath for me." Steve's words were soft, just like before.

Like he was talking to someone who was fragile. Someone broken like Tony. Tony whimpered. He hated it. He wanted to tell him to stop lying. He wanted to scream at him to shut up, but he couldn't make his mouth form the words. It wasn't okay. Nothing was okay. Nothing would ever be okay again. His friends knew his secret. They knew he was nothing but a stupid baby, and they hated him for it. He hated them for making him feel this way. He felt so unwanted. So hurt. It hurt so much. Why did it always have to hurt? He couldn't breathe. He couldn't. The world was crashing down on him, and the weight of it was just too much. So hard. He'd tried so hard to hold together for so long. He'd been all alone with his secret for so long and suddenly everyone knew. It was all too much. Steve and Bucky were talking to him, but he couldn't hear their words. It was like his head was under water. He was drowning in despair. He was sinking to the bottom of his heart, and his emotions were choking him. He couldn't swim to the surface, because he didn't know which way was up.

He didn't see the hands reaching for him this time, even if he did he doubts he could've moved away from them. He couldn't do anything. It's like he was paralyzed. Frozen in place, and unable to do so much as take a breath. His eyes were open, but he wasn't seeing, or maybe they were closed. He wasn't sure. He wasn't sure of anything anymore. He used to be so certain, now everything he knew was being ripped out from under him. He used think he was made of iron, but he knew now that he was made of glass. Howard was right. He always said Starks can't be Little, because they're too fragile. They're made of glass, and Starks are made of iron. Tony wasn't though. He was weak. He'd given in. He'd let himself be held and rocked, fed and changed. He cringed, flinching away from the hands touching him.

He didn't deserve to be touched. He was disgusting. A grown adult who was so useless he couldn't even control his own bladder. His own body was working against him. No wonder none of his friends hadn't wanted him around. Why would they? He was just a burden on them all. His heart broke at the thought. He wanted them to like him so bad, and he hated it. He hated them for not wanting him. He hated himself for wishing they did. Tears rolled down his cheeks so hot they burned. He was pulled into strong arms, and settled against a firm chest. He could vaguely hear the murmurs of words, they sounded soothing, like a lullaby. He couldn't tell what they were saying, but he liked the sound of the smooth voice. The feeling of it rumbling against him, as he laid his head down on their chest.

As his breathing began to even out, it occurred to him that he couldn't hear the words, because all he could hear was the sound of himself hyperventilating. The realization made his breathing pick up again, and he pushed against the hard chest. He needed to get away. He didn't deserve this. He was weak for wanting to be held. He was weak for wanting to hear that voice in his ear, soothing him with soft words and gentle touches. He could feel himself moving, but he wasn't moving. Someone was carrying him. He didn't know where, and he felt so lost. The warmth of the body disappeared, and the cold enveloped him. He was sitting. His vision was blurry from tears, but he could see movement. People were moving around him. What were they doing? What was he doing? Was he breathing? He was definitely crying, the tears were falling into his lap now. He shivered. It's so cold. Why is it so cold?

Something was wrapped around him. It was warm and fuzzy. His instinct was to burrow into it and rub up against it, but he stopped himself. There were people here, he couldn't be a baby. Obie would be so disappointed. The people, who were they? His mind was nagging at him again, trying to supplies names. He knew them. He knew that much. He had just seen them, so why couldn't he remember? His head felt heavy. His thoughts were slow. Trying to sift through them was like walking through molasses. His lungs were aching. Was it from breathing too fast? Or was it from a lack of breathing? Was he breathing? He must be or he wouldn't be alive, right? How long has he been sitting here? It felt like forever.

Steve. The name bubbled to the surface, peeking through the dark shadows in his mind like a ray of sunlight. Steve was here. Tony wasn't sure if he was happy about that. He had seen Steve, and someone else too. Bucky, his mind supplied. What were they doing here? What was he doing here? That's right. He'd dropped at the vacation house. Phil brought him back to the tower, but Clint hadn't wanted him around. So he was brought to Bruce and Natasha's. He was sent to Darcy's, when they got too busy. Now he was with Steve and Bucky. Sam wasn't here though. Sam hadn't wanted him. He breathed in a shaky breath. He remembered it all. No one wanted him. Howard and Obie were right. Another breath pulled in through his lungs. He was definitely breathing. He felt empty and hollow inside, like air was all he had left. He felt cold and alone, even though his body was warm, and Steve and Bucky were here.

"Tony?" A voice drifted into his ear.

It was Bucky. He sounded worried. His voice cracked like he'd been crying. Tony lifted his head, staring blankly, but he wasn't really seeing. He knew they were standing in the room with him, so why did they feel so far away. It was like an ocean was separating them from him. They were so close, yet he couldn't get to them. Did he even want to get to them? No, he didn't, he told himself sharply. Love was a luxury he couldn't afford. Besides, it didn't matter what he wanted. They didn't want him.

"Steve, do something. Something's wrong. Really wrong."

"I'm calling Sam." Steve's voice said.

He sounded so distant, so far away. It took a moment for his words to reach Tony. When they did he jumped off the couch. It was only after he was on his feet that he realized he'd been sitting on a couch. His couch. He was on his floor. He could see it now. He was suddenly hyper aware of everything.

"No." He said as he landed on his feet, making both of the men jump. "Don't call Sam. I'm fine."

They looked at him incredulously. Neither of them spoke, they just stared at him, worry written all over their faces and Tony sighed. His breathing had evened out enough that his lungs were no longer screaming at him. He shook the blanket off his shoulders, letting it fall to the ground. He didn't need the reminder of soft things. He narrowed his eyes, when he saw it was a baby blanket. He turned his glare on the two men that were still standing there, just staring at him.

"What?" He snapped.

Bucky looked at Steve, who looked like he was in pain. They didn't seem like they knew what to do, so Tony decided to make the choice for them.

"Get out." His voice was cold, he was furious at them.

He crossed his arms over his chest when neither of them moved. That's when he noticed that he was wearing a onesie. A baby onesie. His body shook with rage. His fingers dug into his arms, and he thought he might start hyperventilating again.

"Tony? Are you okay?" Steve asked in that too damn soft voice.

Tony was not made of glass. He was not a baby. He was not going to break. He was a Stark. He was made of iron, he told himself stubbornly. He didn't need them, or anyone, especially not Sam.

"What part of get out do you not understand?"

Steve and Bucky looked lost. A part of Tony wanted to tell them everything was fine, but it wasn't. That part of him that didn't want to disappoint, told him to apologize for being rude. He couldn't though. They'd bounced him around like he didn't matter. They'd left him behind. They'd treated him like a baby. They all had. He hated it. He hated them. All of them. It wasn't okay. Nothing was okay. Nothing would ever be okay again, because they all knew his secret. Nothing would ever be the same again. Now all any of them would see when they looked at him was a stupid baby that no one wanted. He wanted to scream at them, but he couldn't seem to make himself.

It didn't seem like they were going anywhere, anytime soon, but Tony couldn't keep standing there in a onesie like a pathetic baby. He turned on his heels and marched to his room, trying to hold onto any ounce of dignity that he might have left, but it was hard to be dignified when your diaper was sticking out of the leg holes of your onesie. Tony grimaced. This had to be the most embarrassing thing that's ever happened to him. That's really saying something, because he's gotten drunk and made a fool of himself on countless occasions. Being a baby was infinitely worse than being a drunk. Howard and Obie were drunks. Being a drunk was acceptable. Being a baby was not. He slammed his bedroom door shut behind him. The bang echoing in the otherwise silent apartment. Then he just stood there, feeling as lost as Steve and Bucky had looked. What was he supposed to do now?


	2. Spiraling Downwards

Tony had finally found his wits and told himself to pretend like it hadn't happened. He struggled with the snaps on his crotch, before he could pull the damn onesie off of him. He threw it on the ground, glaring at the fabric like it had personally wronged him. He felt sick to his stomach seeing the diaper weighed down by urine. He ripped it off in disgust, tossing it on the ground too. He stepped in the shower scrubbing all traces of urine off of him. He scrubbed until his skin was pink and raw, before stepping out and throwing clothes on. He grabbed the wretched items off of his floor. He needed to dispose of the evidence, just like he always did. He knew logically that it didn't matter. Everyone already knew. It did matter though. It mattered to him. If he was going to pretend like this had never happened, than he would have to go back to the way things used to be. That meant discarding any signs of being a baby.

He didn't know why it surprised him so much to find Steve and Bucky standing outside of his door when he opened it, but it did. Probably, because he figured they'd be eager to leave him again. Everyone else seemed to be. He glared at them, daring them to say anything, before walking over to the garbage chute and dumping the diaper in it. When he went to drop the onesie in too, Bucky spoke up.

"Uh, Tony, that doesn't-"

Tony cut him off with a glare. He shoved the onesie down the chute too, slamming it shut and stopped in of front Steve and Bucky.

"Why are you still here? I thought I told you to get out." He said trying to muster up all of his anger.

He was starting to feel really tired, even though he knew he'd slept more as a baby than he had in weeks. He felt so drained. So ready to just be done with all of this. He just wanted everything to go back to the way it was. Back before his friends knew he was a Little. Back before he knew they didn't like him when he was Little.

"Tony, you just had a panic attack. We weren't going to just leave." Bucky tried to explain.

"I can't do this right now." Tony tried to sound harsh, and hated that he sounded so fragile.

He hated it. All of it. Steve looked distressed, but nodded.

"That's okay. We stayed because we wanted to make sure you were okay, that's all. We'll leave if that's really what you want."

Tony just stepped aside to let them pass. Bucky looked like he wanted to protest. Steve glared at him, and pulled him towards the door. Bucky stopped, tugging his arm out of Steve's grasp, before he was fully out the door.

"I'm really sorry, Tony. For everything."

Tony locked himself in his lab after that, emerging only long enough to grab coffee, before heading back down. He made a point of ignoring everyone, and had JARVIS keep the lab on lockdown. He was the only one allowed in or out. It's been two weeks now and even Bruce wasn't allowed to come work on anything with him, and Tony usually liked working with Bruce. Bruce had been really nice to him as a baby too, but even the good memories were too much for Tony. It was almost easier to remember the bad things like Clint telling him to go away, because then he could hate Clint for it and that was so straight forward. It was hard to be mad at Bruce. He remembered playing peekaboo a with him and being rocked to sleep. Yet, Tony still wanted to hate Bruce. He didn't just hate that he'd sent him away too. He hated the way he'd looked at Tony like he was so small and helpless. Like he thought Tony was weak enough that he needed him. Tony Stark didn't need anyone. He definitely didn't want to see the way Bruce looked at him now. He knew he was gonna look at him and see a useless baby, not a genius inventor. Tony just couldn't take it if they all started treating him differently, so he stayed away. He kept himself busy. He stayed in contact with Pepper to keep her off his back. Pepper thankfully gave up on the whole stupid vacation idea, that had totally ruined his life, and started sending work his way. If he had been safe in his lab working, none of this would have ever happened in the first place, so in a way he blamed all of this on Pepper. He was deep in the blame game, pointing fingers at all and everyone, anyone but himself, as he stewed in his rage.

He barely slept, he ate inconsistently, and he drank a shit ton of coffee. He hated himself for wishing someone would hold him and feed him a bottle or rock him to sleep. He hated that the few times he did dose off on the couch in his lab, he'd woken up wet. He hated that he loved some of the memories of being Little. That he wanted to be Little again, even if he'd felt unwanted. He wanted to be a baby and be taken care of, and he hated himself for it. His dad would hate him for it. Obie would be disappointed in him, and he hated that that mattered so much to him. After everything Obie had put him through, he shouldn't care what the man thinks. He did though. It was pathetic. The man had him kidnapped and tried to have him killed, yet Tony was sitting here thinking of how disappointed in Tony he would be. It made no sense, but it didn't make it less true.

He was spiraling out of control and he didn't know what to do. He wanted to be Little again so badly, even if he knew no one wanted to take care of him, because he was nothing but a burden. He couldn't give in. He couldn't ever be a burden on his friends like that again. It was so much harder to fight it, now that he knew that he could be taken care of. Even if no one wanted to keep him, because babies were nothing but a burden on everyone around them. They still would. They'd bounce him around, because no one wanted to deal with him all of the time, still they'd make sure someone was always there to take care of him. He'd never have to be alone. Tony didn't want to be alone. No, matter how much he told himself he didn't need anyone.

He's been Big for so many years, and part of him just wanted to forget none of it ever happened. That part of him wished it hadn't of happened, because if he hadn't of dropped, he wouldn't know what he was missing. Yes, there had been pain, a lot of it, but he wasn't alone for any of it. He wasn't wanted, but they still hadn't left him all alone. It was so much harder to stay Big, when he knew how good it felt to be taken care of. To be held and rocked and soothed in a way that he hadn't been since he was a baby and his mom would rock him to sleep. He couldn't do that to his friends though. He couldn't make them take care of him. He couldn't burden them with that. Babies were a lot of work for Caregivers. Tony couldn't ask for that, because it'd be selfish. He couldn't ask for that, even if a part of him did want it. Howard and Obie were right. It was selfish to want to be a baby.

He knew it was wrong of him. He knew it was selfish. So why did he want to be selfish so badly?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you guys are enjoying this still. I know it hurts so much right now, hold in there, we're so close to happiness.
> 
> As always you guys are amazing! 
> 
> I've received so much support for this series and you seriously have no idea how much each and every one of your comments means to me. So keep reading, leaving kudos, and commenting! I will keep posting!


	3. Shattered Glass

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Poor Tony:(
> 
> My baby is so sad it hurts so much

He tried to push it aside, he really did. He tried to forget about being Little. Tried to go back to the way he used to be. He pulled up the specs for the new Stark phone he was supposed to be working on, but he couldn't focus. After twenty minutes of staring at it, he gave up. It was infuriating. This is what he did best. Inventing things was his thing. Now he couldn't even do that. It'd been almost two months since he'd been Little, and he couldn't seem to get it out of his head. The pain had faded away to nothing more than a dull throb. He wished he could cling to the hurt and anger. It was so much easier than the yearning. He could still taste the warm milk on his lips, but he hadn't indulged in any since. If he did, he might not be able to stop himself from dropping.

He needed to get some sleep. The problem was he kept pissing himself, and he hated the feeling of dried urine hard and crunchy on his jeans. He yearned for the security of a diaper. He hadn't woken up laying in a soiled bed as a baby, and when he woke up with a soiled diaper it was changed almost immediately. If his bum was red from laying in it too long, cream was applied to soothe the burning. Not to mention, his nightmares that he had when he was Big, didn't seem to happen when he was Little. Even knowing he wasn't wanted, there was still always someone nearby and it had been a comforting thought.

He shook his head trying to clear it. There he goes again, lost in his memories of being a baby. He tried to hold back a yawn, but failed. He seemed to be failing at everything recently. It was a hard blow to his ego. Tony Stark didn't fail, he always excelled. Now even passing seemed like it was so far out of his reach, he couldn't even see it.

"Sir, if I may, I suggest you take a break. It has been fifty seven hours since you last slept." JARVIS informed him.

"Has it really?"

"Yes, Sir."

"Ah, shit. Well that explains why I feel like I'm losing my mind."

"I believe what you're experiencing is sleep deprivation, Sir. Surely, it's something you're familiar with." The A.I. sassed.

Tony snorted at that, but didn't correct him. It was something he was familiar with. A little too familiar.

"And if I may also say, that I do believe dropping into your headspace would be beneficial to you, Sir."

"No. No, you may not. Now shut up and leave me alone." Tony snapped at his A.I.

He rubbed his head feeling the onset of a headache. His life is a total disaster. After another failed attempt at being productive, Tony finally gave in and decided to head up to his floor. Maybe with a good couple of hours of sleep he could get back to work and actually think straight. Doubtful, but it couldn't hurt.

It turns out it could hurt.

He thrashed around in his sleep. Nightmares of being tortured for months and of Obie sneering at him, calling him worthless, tormented him. He woke up in a wet bed, feeling like he was as useless as he'd always been told. It was too much. It was just all too much. He couldn't take it anymore. He went through the process of discarding the evidence of the soiled bedding and clothes, robotically. He was barely aware he was doing it. He found himself back in the lab, with a cup of coffee he didn't even remember brewing and cradled the hot mug to his chest, the warmth filling the emptiness inside of him.

He was empty. Cold and alone. Unwanted just the way he'd always been told he was. Clint didn't want him around, Sam didn't want to keep him. They were all too kind to just tell him to go away, but he knew he was just a problem. The only thing he could do was stay away. To ignore them when they tried to enter the lab. Sometimes when he went to retrieve more coffee, he found food waiting for him outside of the lab. If he had to guess, he'd say it was probably Steve's doing. The thought made something inside of him ache uncomfortably. Why was he trying to be so nice? Tony had made all of their lives so much harder, so why was everyone trying so hard to see him. It didn't matter, he told himself. He didn't want to see them. He'd told himself the same lie so many times, he almost believed it now.

Anytime he unintentionally crossed paths with someone, they would try to engage him in conversation. To ask him how he was doing, or if he wanted to hang out. To offer him food or coffee. He usually accepted the coffee silently with a nod in thanks. He ignored the other requests. He didn't need their worry. He didn't need them to care about him. He didn't want it, he kept trying to tell himself. He didn't want to be selfish and admit that maybe he did want to be taken care of. He was scared. It hurt to let people in, to have hope and expectations. Everyone always lets you down eventually. Howard had taught him that. Obie had taught him that. He grimaced, his coffee sloshing, threatening to spill like the tears stinging in his eyes.

He didn't want to think about Obie. Obie had betrayed him in the worst way possible. He had loved Tony. Taken care of him when he was all alone. Told him he was a genius. He had also told Tony he was pathetic, useless and unwanted. He didn't just hurt him like Howard did. He praised him and made him feel special, then he ripped it all away, just so Tony would be willing to do anything to get it back. He couldn't think about Obie, because it always lead him back to Obie's final betrayal. It always lead him back to those months in Afghanistan, and he couldn't go back there. The pain that didn't lead to being rewarded with praise. The endless pain. He couldn't go through that again. He wouldn't. It was all just too much. He barely noticed when his hands slipped on the mug, and it crashed to the floor. The ceramic broke into pieces, like Tony's heart was broken. The hot liquid spilling out, like the fat tears that fell down his cheeks. As much as he wanted to be made of iron, he just wasn't. He was stretched as thin as paper, and he was ripping apart. His seams were unraveling. He was shattering, like glass, and he didn't know how to put himself back together. Every time he tried to pick up the broken pieces, they cut him open again.


	4. Rock Bottom

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> When you hit rock bottom, there's nowhere left to go, but up.

Steve was taking swings at the punching bag in the gym when it broke open. That was the third one he'd broken this week, and these weren't ordinary punching bags. Tony had designed them specifically to withstand the strength of an enhanced soldier. Steve stopped, letting his head fall onto the broken bag. He felt lost. He didn't know what to do about Tony. He's been completely avoiding everyone, and hiding out in his lab for weeks on end and it's been nearly two months now.

Steve had seen him in passing, but Tony refused to acknowledge him. Steve had resorted to leaving food outside of his lab, in the hope he wouldn't starve, but Tony barely touched the food. The almost untouched dishes were always waiting when he came back with more. Still, he was breaking inside, wanting to talk to Tony. To apologize for everything that had happened. Steve knew Clint really wanted to see Tony too. Clint had been really mean to baby Tony and he was feeling really bad about it now.

Steve unhooked the punching bag, tossing it aside, and retrieving a spare. Tony always had back ups ready. He was always looking out for them, providing them with a place to stay, stocking their fridges with food, and letting them tell JARVIS anytime they needed anything. He took care of them, and he was just a baby. He shouldn't have to do all of that. He should have someone taking care of him. Someone like Sam. Steve and Bucky had talked to Sam about taking in Tony and he was okay with it. He said he'd be willing to try, if that's what Tony wanted. As long as Steve and Bucky were okay with it, Sam was happy to do it. Steve was relieved. He had been worried that Sam might not want to. It turns out Sam was hesitant, because he thought Steve and Bucky wouldn't want him to.

The only problem was, that Tony refused to talk to Sam. They'd sent him messages through JARVIS, so they knew he was getting them. He just wasn't responding. Steve didn't blame him either. They'd all been awful to him. Bouncing him around from place to place like no one wanted him. It broke Steve's heart to think about it. He sighed, and started working on the new punching bag. He could have kept going for a while. He had so much stress to work off, but he stopped immediately when JARVIS told him that Tony needed him.

Steve ran down to the lab. Hating the elevator for taking it's precious time. The lab doors opened for him, thankfully. Tony was kneeling on the ground, clutching his chest, and breathing sporadically. Steve was hesitant to touch him, he didn't want to freak him out even more, like he had when he'd reached for Tony to pull him out of his crib. He approached him slowly, crouching next to him, so he wouldn't be standing over him.

"Tony? It's Steve. JARVIS told me you needed help."

Tony took a shuddery breath and released it, trying to control his breathing.

"That traitor." He muttered.

Steve cracked a smile, but it lacked the proper amusement.

"I'm glad he did. Can I- do you mind if I touch you?" Steve asked nervously.

Tony's eyes widened, his head snapping up to look at Steve. He started to shake his head no, but then he stopped and gritted his teeth. He whimpered, and bit his lip so hard that a trickle of blood ran down his chin.

"Oh, baby, please, let me help you."

Tony started sobbing, tears pouring down his already tear stained face. Steve wanted to pull him into his arms and hold him tight. He reached out a hand slowly, so Tony could see what he was planning to do. He took it as a good sign when Tony didn't flinch and set his hand on his shoulder. Tony just stared at him, looking so broken and scared. Steve pulled him in for a hug, wrapping his arms around the smaller man. Tony shuddered, but didn't pull away.

They stayed like that for a while, Tony kneeling on the ground and Steve crouching in front of him. He held Tony close, and Tony leaned into the embrace, dropping his head on Steve's shoulder. It was peaceful. Tony's breathing evened out and his body relaxed. Steve murmured soothing words in his ear, and Tony melted at the sound, falling even further into Steve's embrace.

When Tony did pull away, he didn't go far. His eyelashes were wet from crying, and his chin had dried blood on it. He looked like he hadn't been sleeping well, which wasn't a shock given how much time he's been spending in his lab. Steve couldn't help but think, that even with bags under his eyes and tear tracks on his cheeks, Tony was beautiful. He brushed a hand through his curls, and smiled when Tony leaned into his touch.

"I'm sorry." Tony croaked out.

Steve shook his head, grimacing.

"Please, don't apologize. You have nothing to be sorry for. I'm sorry. We're all sorry, Tony. We were shocked to find out you were Little. No one was expecting it. Still, we should have handled it better. We really messed things up. None if this was your fault. This was on us, all of us." Steve insisted.

Tony frowned.

"At first I hated all of you guys for everything. It hurt. A lot. Now it doesn't hurt so much. Now I just feel empty and alone."

Steve's heart broke at Tony's words. He just wanted to make everything all better. He wasn't sure if Tony would let him though.

"I really want you to stay with us, me and Bucky and Sam, that is. We all talked about it, a lot, and if that's something you want, then you're always welcome at our place."

"Steve, I appreciate the offer, but I can't. I won't make you guys do that."

"I want to, Tony, and so does Sam and Bucky." Steve promised.

Tony shook his head.

"No. I can't."

"But do you want to? Do you want Sam to be your Caregiver? Do you want to be our baby brother?"

Tony sucked in a breath, looking like he was in pain. He dropped his head, and Steve wanted to reach for him again. He didn't though. He gave Tony the space he needed to think it through and eventually, Tony looked back up at him.

"I want to talk to Sam about it."

Steve grinned, feeling a wave of relief pass over him, soothing his concern. Sam would talk to Tony, and help him to understand. Everything was going to be okay.

"I'll bring you to him." Steve started to say, but Tony shook his head.

"No, just send him here."

"Right. Of course."

* * *

"Of course, I'll talk to him, Steve, but I'm not going to push him in to anything." Sam said over the phone speaker.

"I'm not asking you to. You just need to make him understand-"

"No, Steve. I need you to listen to me, and really hear me when I say this. I'll talk to him and find out what _he_ wants. I know how badly you and Bucky want this to work out, but I'm not going to make him doing anything. I'll try to get him to see that we just want to help, but the choice is Tony's to make."


	5. Sam and Tony's talk part 1

It didn't take long for Sam to get there, but Tony already regretted his decision to talk to him. He was sitting on the couch now. Steve had helped him off the ground before he left, and wiped the blood off of his chin. So now he was on the couch in his lab, staring at his hands, and feeling like an utter moron. Oh god, what did he do? Breaking down like that in front of Steve. Yes, he was aware that that wasn't the first time Steve has seen him cry or have a panic attack, but that just made it so much worse. He must think Tony's so weak and pathetic, and Tony just hated it.

When Sam got there he knocked on the door and waited for Tony to open it, even though he could easily just come in. Tony appreciated it, but it also meant he had to peel himself off the couch cushion and walk all the way over to the door. Maybe it was the lack of sleeping or food or coffee, but his legs felt wobbly beneath him as he walked. He was at least glad that they didn't give out. It would be so embarrassing if he fell down in front of Sam.

Sam offered him a kind smile, and Tony tried to return it. He thinks it came out as more of a grimace though. He gestured for Sam to sit down, and then sat down as far away from him as possible. He couldn't help it when his knees came up and his arms hugged them to his chest. He stared at his knees, not wanting to look at Sam. Tony didn't know how he felt about having a Caregiver. Even if Sam was okay with it, like Steve had said, that didn't mean Tony would like it. What if Sam just wanted him to be a baby all the time? Tony knew even as he thought it that it was illogical.

Steve spent most of his time Big and Sam was fine with it, from what Tony could tell at least. Tony couldn't help himself from worrying though. What if Sam didn't like him? What if he was too difficult or too much work? Babies were a lot of work after all. What if he ended up resenting Tony? What if they did this and Sam came to the conclusion that Tony was weak and pathetic and worthless? Howard had seen it, so had Obie. If he let Sam in, he would see it too. Tony didn't want that. He really didn't.

"Steve said you wanted to talk." Sam said gently, pulling Tony from his thoughts.

Tony swallowed, glancing up to look at him, and looking back down just as quickly. He couldn't do this. He couldn't face this. He knew he would have to talk about being Little, and why he lied, and he just didn't want to. He couldn't. Sam's gaze on him was gentle and patient. He didn't try to rush him. Tony liked that. They sat there in silence for a while. Tony wrapped up in his thoughts, and Sam waiting patiently. Eventually Tony's body relaxed a little, so instead of hugging his knees tightly to him, his arms were wrapped loosely around his legs. Sam was no longer looking at him he noticed, when he stole a quick glance. Tony thought he did that intentionally, to make Tony feel less nervous. He still felt nervous, but he was grateful for the attempt anyways. Sam was a good guy. Tony had already known that, but it was nice to see nonetheless.

"Did he say why I wanted to talk?" Tony asked, finally.

Sam looked over at him, smiling softly.

"He didn't, but he didn't need to. His excitement told me everything I needed to know." Sam admitted.

Tony flushed. Steve was excited. Why? He didn't understand why Steve wanted this, but it still made his heart flutter.

"Oh." Tony whispered.

"Are you comfortable leading the conversation, or would you rather me ask you questions?" Sam asked.

Tony's eyes widened. He wasn't sure he could lead, but what if Sam wanted answers he didn't want to give. Sam must have read the fear on his face, because he smiled reassuringly and continued.

"You don't have to answer any questions you don't want to, Tony. You'd still be in control of how far we go and where we go."

Tony swallowed, but nodded his approval. That sounded okay. Not great, because he wasn't sure he really wanted to talk any more. He thought that was mostly just the fear creeping in though. Sam waited a moment to see if Tony wanted to say anything. When he stayed silent, Sam took that as his cue to take the lead.

"Well why don't we start with something easy. What have you been working on?"

Tony furrowed his brows, he didn't see how that was relevant. It was, however something he didn't mind talking about. So, he told Sam all about his latest projects. He told him about the work he was doing for SI, how he was altering the training course in the gym, the upgrade he was giving the coffee machine so it would brew in a matter of seconds while still maintaining optimal flavor, and by the time he'd gotten around to talking about the newest car he'd gotten, Tony had forgotten why Sam had come here. So it caught him off guard when Sam changed the subject and asked how he felt around him.

"Uhmm. Fine, I guess." Tony whispered.

His voice had gone from loud and excited, to nervous and subdued in a blink of an eye. Sam just smiled at him. He did that a lot Tony was realizing. He wasn't sure if he'd always been like that. To be fair, Tony had a tendency to keep a certain amount of distance from the people he was close to, other than maybe Rhodey, and Tony wasn't close with Sam. He only knew Sam because he was Steve's Caregiver. He'd met Steve when they were still in college. Sam was already his Caregiver at that point. Steve and Bucky had only started college because Sam encouraged it. Tony had already been on his last year, when they joined, but both Steve and Bucky graduated over a year ago.

"That's good. How about Steve and Bucky? How do you feel about them?"

Tony blushed at the question, hiding his face in his knees.

"They're fine." He mumbled.

"Okay. What about when they're Little?"

Tony raised his head, frowning.

"I don't think they like me. I'm-" He thought about it for a moment. "I'm too clingy."

"What makes you say that?"

Tony thought Sam must already know the answer, but he was trying to not put words in Tony's mouth. Tony squirmed uncomfortably.

"I kept clinging to Steve when I was a baby, because he comforted me and it felt safe. He didn't like it, it made him cry and it made Bucky mad."

Tony couldn't tell what Sam was thinking and that made him uncomfortable. He wish he knew if his words were upsetting him. Tony was usually good at reading people, but Sam had the whole detached interest thing down. It reminded Tony of a therapist. Which wasn't shocking actually, since Sam ran VA groups.

"Do you want to stay with us when you're Little, Tony?"

Tony looked away. He couldn't meet Sam's gaze anymore.

"I don't wanna be Little all the time. I like being Big."

Sam smiled at that, and Tony felt a surge of pride that his answer had made Sam happy. He frowned. He always felt that way when he was praised, and Tony didn't like that. He always felt that way when Howard or Obie said he did good. It didn't happen frequently, but when it did, Tony would feel a surge of pride, that made him want to earn their approval again and again. He tried so hard to be good to get that praise, and he failed so often. Sam hadn't even praised him, yet Tony was already willing to do just about anything to make him smile at him like that again.

"That's fine, Tony. Bucky spends a lot his time being Little, because he finds it comforting. Steve chooses to be Big most of the time, because that's what he's used to. You can be Big or Little whenever you feel like it." Sam assured him.

Tony smiled slightly at that. He already knew that Steve was Big a lot and Bucky chose to be Little a lot, still it was good to hear.

"Do you want me to be your Caregiver, Tony?"

Tony frowned at the question. He didn't really understand how this question differed from the last one. He didn't really answer the last one though, did he? No, he didn't.

"I've never had a Caregiver. I-" Tony took a moment to sort out what he wanted to say. "I've never wanted one, because I don't want someone to control me, or to keep me from my company. I also want to stay registered as a Neutral. The real results of my classification test are classified. My father did that, but I don't want to change it."

"That makes sense. I won't force you to change your registration, but I wouldn't discourage it, if that's ever something you were okay with. I'd never try to take your company from you Tony, or tell you how to do your work. I wouldn't really want you to spend weeks on end in your lab, but as long as your Big, I'm not going to tell you what to do. I would ask that you not lock me out, and that you eat and try to sleep at least somewhat regularly, but I'm not going to try and control your life, Tony. Bucky and Steve work at the agency when their Big, and when they go on missions I have no say in what happens. When Bucky stays up seventy two hours straight waiting to take out a target, I'm not thrilled, but I'm not going to tell him he can't go on missions, or which ones he can go on. Same with Steve, and it'd be the same for you. I help them through it when they come back and drop, but what they do when they're Big is their choice. They often come to me for support when their Big, but they don't have to. You can rely on me as much or as little as you want. I understand, that at first, at least, you won't be that comfortable with turning to me for help, and that's okay."

Tony was shocked. He sat and thought about everything Sam had just said. It took him a while to process it all. When he did he couldn't help but be skeptical. He didn't think Sam would lie to him, but it sounded too good to be true. Then again, he thought about Steve and Bucky. Everything he'd said about them when they're Big was true. They did go on missions for the agency, sometimes for weeks at a time. Even Bucky, who preferred to be Little a lot, was allowed to go on extended missions when he wanted or needed to.

"Okay. That sounds good." Tony said finally, feeling more sure of himself.

If Sam only wanted to take care of him when he was Little, and didn't want to control his life when he was Big, than Tony thought he could do this.

"I'm glad. I want you to feel comfortable, and I want this to be your choice. I don't want you to feel like you're being backed into a corner."

"It doesn't matter what I want." Tony muttered, staring at his knees.

"Tony, look at me, please." Sam said gently, but firmly.

He hesitated, but looked up to meet Sam's gaze.

"It does. What you think, what you feel, what you want, it all matters. You matter, Tony."

Tony's eyes teared up at Sam's words. No one had ever said something like that to him. Not even Rhodey, or his mom. He took a shaky breath, trying to calm his raging emotions. He had so many feelings rushing around inside him at the moment that it was like an ocean's worth of waves were crashing together inside of him. He didn't like it, but he liked Sam's words.

"Okay." He managed, even though he found it hard to really believe it could be true.

"Do you want to stop here, or do you want to keep going?" Sam asked him, sensing that he was experiencing intense feelings.

"I'm fine. We can keep going."

He didn't really want to, but he also didn't want to disappoint Sam.

"It's okay, if you want to stop, Tony." Sam said, softly.

His words were soft like Steve's had been. He remembered hearing the murmur of soft words and the feel of gentle touches soothing him. He felt like glass. Tears stung at his eyes, and his breathing picked up.

"Tony, I can tell you're not okay. We're going to end this here, and we can pick it back up later, when you're ready. Let's go get you some food. How about a cup of coffee to go with it?"

Sam pulled Tony up off the couch, steadying him when he swayed.

"Are you going to be okay to walk?"

Tony nodded. He couldn't be so weak that he couldn't even carry his own weight, even if he did feel like one step would shatter him. Sam nodded back, but kept a hold of Tony's elbow. Tony liked that. Sam was strong. Stable. Grounding. Sam was safe. Tony felt secure. Slowly, the drowning feeling of falling to the bottom of the sea dissipated. By the time Sam had him sitting in the common floor dining room, Tony was starting to feel like himself again.


	6. Sam and Tony's talk part 2

After having some food and coffee Tony was feeling much better, and agreed that they could continue talking. So here he was, sitting on the couch in his living room. Sam had suggested going to Tony's floor to finish their conversation, instead of going back to the lab.

"So Tony, I know this is a difficult one, but I was hoping you could tell me why you didn't want anyone to know that you're Little."

Tony had already mentioned that Howard was the reason he was classified as a Neutral, but he figured Sam would want to know more about it. Tony licked his chapped lips, his fingers drumming the arm of the sofa.

"Howard, my dad, didn't like it. He got really mad when it became obvious that I was a Little. I, um couldn't control my bladder that well and I had Little tendencies. I wanted to do baby things, and he'd, um, punish me for it. Most people aren't assigned a Classification until their at least fifteen, as you know, but Littles, especially ones as young as I am, can, technically, be assigned earlier. My dad had me tested when I was only ten. He already expected the results, but he was still livid. Since it was before the Classification Registration Bill was passed, we were able to mark me as classified. After the Bill passed Obie paid off the registration office to have me registered as a Neutral. My parents died when I was twelve. They had a car accident. My uncle Obie took me in after that and took control of Stark Industries. He was even worse than my dad, because he would pretend to be really nice sometimes, and then other times he'd be cruel. It was really confusing. Sometimes he was kind to me, offering hugs and praise, and it seemed like it was okay. Other times he hurt me for acting like a baby or making mistakes."

There were tears in Tony's eyes as he finished talking and Sam had to take in a deep breathe to try and calm himself before responding. He didn't want to scare Tony by sounding angry. It was hard though. He wanted to make both Howard and Obie suffer for the suffering they'd caused.

"I'm so sorry, Tony. That's awful."

"Yeah, well, it is what it is. Can't change it." Tony muttered, darkly.

"You're right. We can't change the past, but we can heal from it. I'd like to help you heal, Tony. If you'll let me."

Tony glanced up at Sam. Sam has been so good to him. Listening to him. Saying things that seemed too perfect. Tony wanted to believe him, but it was hard to let himself. He was starting to think maybe it'd be okay to at least try. He knew he'd be heart broken if it didn't work out. Then again, he was already broken. How much more broken could he get? He decided to take a leap of faith. He decided to go against every part of him that was screaming it was too risky. He decided to take a chance on Sam.

"I want to try." Tony said, determined.

Sam nodded.

"Of course."

"I- I'm not good. You won't want me once you get to know me. I'll ruin everything and you'll regret having ever done it."

Sam looked hurt, unable to school his expression quickly enough, and Tony felt bad for saying it, but he had to warn him. He had to let him know that this was a bad idea.

"Tony, I'm not going to lie to you and say I know what's going to happen. You're right that it could end badly, but I promise I won't just walk away from you. I know I left when we first found out you were a Little. I know it hurt you, but I couldn't take you in without talking to Steve and Bucky when they were Big. I always take them into consideration when I make decisions and that's why I think we'll be a good match. I'll always take into consideration your thoughts, feelings, and wants, when I'm deciding what we all need. I am sorry that you got hurt in the process though."

It had hurt. Tony had felt unwanted being moved from place to place. He understood why Sam did it though. He likes the idea of having a Caregiver who would never do anything to make him feel unwanted. It makes sense, that that's why he didn't take him in right away. Even though he wanted to help Tony, he couldn't risk making his Littles feel displaced by not even asking them how they'd feel about it. It had hurt, but it was also the reason he knew Sam was the Caregiver he wanted.

Phil was a good Caregiver, but when he took Tony home without first discussing it with Clint, it had made Clint feel uncertain about his place in the family. Sam hadn't been willing to do that, not because he didn't care, but because he cared. He cared what it would mean to Steve and Bucky. Tony felt a sense of certainty. He wasn't quite sure where it came from, but it told him that if Sam was his Caregiver, he would always take Tony into consideration. He would always believe that Tony mattered. All of him. His thoughts, his feelings, his wants. They would always matter, even when it wasn't easy or convenient. Tony liked that.

Tony agreed that he'd have JARVIS contact Sam if he ever dropped. Sam said that he was welcome to come over whether he was Little or Big, that he would always be welcome. Tony still felt a little uncertain about what Steve and Bucky would think though. Sam assured him that he wouldn't have offered if they hadn't agreed to it, and Tony wanted to believe it would all be fine. A voice in his head told him it was too good to be true, still, a part of him was over the moon that he would finally have someone to take care of him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As always thanks for the reads, kudos and comments! I'm not sure I would be this far into this if you guys weren't so awesome.
> 
> I hope you guys are looking forward to Sam being Tony's Caregiver, I know I am.
> 
> I wanted to give some insight into how I view this situation, for anyone who might want it.
> 
> I think it's important to keep in mind that Tony was abused by Howard and then Obie, for years, and in those kind of scenarios, it's very common for victims to attack themselves, and blame themselves for the things that happen to them.
> 
> I know that that's really hard to read and a lot of you might think he should be a lot more upset with his friends than with himself. He does express some negative feelings towards his friends, at first, but then he turns his anger inward.
> 
> Tony, unfortunately, has been through a lot worse and has been hurt a lot more, by people that he was really close to, like Obie for example. He's been alone for a while now, but if Obie was still around and hadn't been imprisoned, he would probably go back to him. Even though he hurts Tony, Tony is eager to do whatever he can to receive even the smallest amount of praise.
> 
> Tony is a victim of abuse, and victims of abuse, unfortunately, often harbor negative feelings towards themselves. They can also find it really hard to harbor negative feelings towards their abusers, and end up feeling really bad or regretting any negative thoughts or feelings they do have towards those who hurt them.
> 
> So if you feel like he should be more angry with his friends, or that he blames himself too much, just keep that in mind. I don't really consider his friends abusive, though they were in the wrong. I personally felt like he would find it hard to blame them for long, because he's always been told everything is his fault, and overall he doesn't consider the things that they did to be that bad, in comparison to the other things he went through.
> 
> Obie hurt him a lot for a long time, Obie also tried to have him killed, yet he still found it hard to be Little because he doesn't want the man to be disappointed with him and he feels like it's wrong because he believed Obie when he told him it was wrong.
> 
> So yeah, that's where I was coming from when I wrote this. I know this is not everyone's experience when it comes to abuse, and I'm not suggesting that this is the way all victims of abuse feel, by any means. 
> 
> I just thought he'd find it hard to blame others for things he's been through. I feel he was raised to turn the blame inward and feel really ashamed, even when it isn't his fault. So even though he does express anger, he eventually reverts back to what he knows. Which is that he's always been told he's not good enough, that it's all his fault, that he doesn't matter and that he's a burden for being a baby.
> 
> So yeah, that's that. I'm so glad to be working towards healing and happiness for our poor baby tho

**Author's Note:**

> You can always chat with me about the series on my tumblr @buckybeardreams


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